


Happy

by oh_johnny



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4766120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_johnny/pseuds/oh_johnny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A relationship summed up in a series of letters from Paul to John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of an old fic which appeared in lj's johnheartpaul comm.

Dear John, 

I don’t know what I’m going to write here. I just know I need to write, need to put everything down, and a song just isn’t going to be enough.

But at least a song would be anonymous. At least nobody could look at a song and know anything about us. But I can’t say what I want to say. So I’ll write.

How long? How long has it been like this and neither one of us has said anything? How long could we have been together? How much time have we wasted? 

I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m happy this morning, John. Really happy, and I just wanted you to know it.

\-------------------

Dear John,

I hate leaving you in the morning. I hate sneaking out of your room and down the hall, hoping nobody will see me, and trying to act like nothing’s going on when the waiter goes by with someone’s breakfast on a tray. He winked at me, like he knew I was just getting in from shagging some bird. If he only knew.

You’re beautiful when you sleep. Did you know that? Has anyone pointed it out before? Soft, sort of. No, gentle, that’s the word I want. Gentle and peaceful. All that energy gone somewhere else and all that’s left is the tenderness. 

I have a mark on my neck. I keep staring at it in the mirror and remembering when you put it there. I know I left my mark on you, too. I’m glad. It’s like we belong to each other now.

You make me happy.

\----------------

Dear John,

Do me a favour mate and don’t drag your nails down my sunburned back any more, okay? Jesus that hurts.

But that sound you made at the same time? That you can do any time (at all).

It makes me (yes) happy (stop laughing!).

\---------------

Dear John,

I don’t know what to say. What’s the phrase? In vino veritas? Get drunk enough and you can say anything?

But I need to know, John. Do you really? In the cold light of day, with a clear head, do you? 

Because I do. And it would make me very happy if you did too.

\-----------------

My love,

How good it feels to write that. Almost as good as saying it. Not anywhere near as good as hearing you say it to me, though.

I love you.

I don’t know what that means, in real life. I don’t know what we do now. I don’t know how to be with you. But I love you. And you love me. I can’t imagine anything better.

I love you.

\----------------

Dear John,

I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know why I said it. I was angry, I guess, and needed to strike out, and you were there. I didn’t mean it. I love you, I do.

I’m so, so sorry.

\-----------------

Dear John,

God, I love make up sex! I’m tired and my muscles are sore and I kind of tingle all over and I’ve got teeth marks on my back and have I mentioned lately that I love you? 

I have to go. Jane is waiting for me to come home and she’s starting to wonder about all the time I spend at the studio. How am I going to explain to her that I have to be back there in four hours? I don’t care – at least I’ll see you again in four hours. 

If you behave maybe I’ll take you into the loo and show you my bruises!

I love you.

\--------------

Dear John,

I’ve been waiting all night and you’re still not here. What happened? Where did you go? I thought maybe I got the day wrong, but I don’t think so. I think you forgot about me.

How could you forget about me?

\---------------

Dear John,

I think we have to figure out a way to have the make up sex without the fight. Because my god the sex is incredible but I could live forever without the fighting.

\--------------

Dear John,

How can you lie under me and look up at me the way you do and say the things you say and wrap your body around mine and take me inside you…how can you do all those things and then get up and leave because you want to be with her?

I thought you loved me. 

\-------------

Dear John,

Well, and so? So I fell in love, too. Now you’ve got Yoko and I’ve got Linda and everything should be fine. Right? So why are you making such a big fucking deal out of this? You fell in love with Yoko first. You left me first. You’re the one who said we can’t go on the way we were. You’re the one who said what we had was over. So grow the fuck up and leave Linda alone.

Prick.

\----------------

Dear John,

You can be a miserable fucking cunt sometimes, you know that? Nothing personal? You write that shit and then you tell me it’s nothing personal? 

The answer to the question is that I sleep just fine, John. I sleep wrapped up in Linda’s arms. She loves me. She holds on to me. She’ll never let me go. She says that to me and I believe her, John. I trust her. 

I’ll never trust you again.

\---------------

Dear John,

It was good to see you again. It was good to hang out with you. It felt like old times, you know? I hope we can keep doing it.

It made me (wait for it) happy.

\--------------

Dear John,

I’ve been trying to write this letter for a month now. Every time I try I start to cry. But I need to write it. I don’t know why. Where will I send it?

I love you. Still. Always. I love you and I always did. Even when we hated each other I loved you. Even when you were a complete bastard to me I loved you. Even when you told me I meant nothing to you I loved you.

How could I not?

You were everything to me, John, and you always will be.

Even if we’d never made love, never found that side of each other, I would have loved you more than anything or anyone else.

I keep trying to explain to Linda, and she nods and tells me she understands, but she doesn’t really. How could she? I told her the truth last week and she wasn’t as surprised as I thought she’d be. Maybe we weren’t as discreet as we thought?

And you always laughed at this and called me soft, but John, you made me happy.

Thank you.

Love, 

Paul


End file.
